


cold as stone / yours alone

by solipsismlemonade



Series: last call for sin [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Anthony Stark - Freeform, Catholic Character, Catholicism, Daredevil - Freeform, Earth-616, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, Iron Man - Freeform, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, Matt Murdock - Freeform, Matthew Murdock - Freeform, Roman Catholicism, Superheroes, Superior Iron Man, You're Welcome, another flora cash-themed fic, christianity screws yet another gay over, devil of hell's kitchen, even superior iron man deserves love, evil iron man?, gay pining, i have too much fun with tags i'm sorry, it's just the morning after but at night, lots of internal monologuing, matt's such an angsty lad, my specialty, no i will never tire of ships no one else ships, rhymes with tony, say it out loud, their ship name is mony, tony stark - Freeform, vigilantes, yet another rarepair from gray!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solipsismlemonade/pseuds/solipsismlemonade
Summary: “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”or, matt murdock kind of regrets recent life choices (but not really)
Relationships: Daredevil / Superior Iron Man, Matt Murdock/Tony Stark
Series: last call for sin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681792
Kudos: 28





	cold as stone / yours alone

Matt woke disoriented and tangled in sheets that weren’t his. They were more expensive, for one thing. He could feel it in their weave and thread count. This wasn’t his bed, and he wasn’t wearing any clothes, and… events slowly slotted into place in his head and Matt sat up, rubbing a hand through his hair. There was a man sleeping next to him, untroubled by Matt’s movement. The slow, steady rhythm of his breathing and pulse soothed Matt’s momentary panic and he reached out with a questing hand, running the tips of his fingers along the line of Tony Stark’s bare shoulder. He could hear the traffic more distantly; they were at the top floor of Stark tower. Matt could hear the whistle of the wind; the chill of a row of windows pressed against his face and chest.

He had slept with Tony Stark.

He, Matthew Murdock, lawyer, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, had slept with Tony Stark, a man who treated life like a game of chess and people like pawns. Expendable resources, to be thrown away when their usefulness was depleted.

Matt closed blind eyes in the darkness of Tony’s room and let out a slow, slow breath. Last night had been… something else. Matt didn’t even think he had words for it. It felt, more or less, like it was around two in the morning. He could still go back to sleep.

Matt’s gaze tracked to the row of windows to the side, eyes just slightly unfocused, as if he was contemplating a hasty exit.

Tony’s heartbeat pulled at something similar behind Matt’s ribs. He found himself sliding back into the warm bed and curling up against Tony’s back, wrapping his arms around Tony, who made a wordless, half-asleep sound that ended in a question mark.

“I’m fine,” Matt replied, closing sightless eyes as he pressed a hand against Tony’s chest, feeling the beat of Tony’s heart against his palm and fingers, hearing the tiny, tinny hum of his arc reactor just at the edge of hearing. “Go back to sleep.”

.

.

.

.

.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

There was a shift of heavy dark cloth on the other side of the confessional as Father Lantom made himself comfortable. Matt didn’t hold it against him. His confessions were always… weighted. The lattice of the wall chopped the light of candles and lamps into a grid, though Matt couldn’t tell; he only knew the dimensions of the confessional by touch.

“I…” Matt took a breath, let it out. “I fell in love with a man.”

“I think both you and I know that that is no true sin, or at least, not one I would hold against you,” Father Lantom said, voice gentle. Matt could hear a note of surprise in it, too; he hadn’t known that Matt loved men as well as women, and he was surprised that Matt was confessing this to him.

“He’s… he’s not a good man, Father,” Matt replied, closing his eyes behind red-tinted glasses. “The things he’s done… and I knew and I – I loved him regardless. I still do.” God, how could he not love Tony? How could anyone not love Tony? The man was pure charisma and charm, and Matt had it from several very reliable secondhand sources that he was downright gorgeous, too.

“Do you condone his actions?” Father Lantom asked after a pause, shifting again.

“No,” Matt whispered. “God, no.” He could never condone murder. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen fought for the very people Tony Stark was trying to trample – the impoverished, the people who no one else would fight for, not the Avengers or anyone else.

“Matthew. You have to stop blaming yourself for every little thing. You cannot be a sin eater for every person your path crosses. This man, whoever he is, has his own agency. Love… it isn’t something we can truly control, Matthew.”

Matt bowed his head, the line of his shoulder slumped and weary. “I know, Father. I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> in the winter - flora cash
> 
> the largest of thank-yous to sage who i both plotted with and also has one of the best tony stark protrayals i've ever come across ie the best superior iron man portrayal Ever
> 
> sliiiiiiightly rushed and i'm not quite satisfied with how it turned out but it Exists now


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